


Amen

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abaddon and Dean hate each other at first, Abaddon gets in fights a lot, Abaddon is adopted, Abaddon is of course a troublemaker, Abaddon/ Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual!Abaddon, Dean is a very caring person, Dean is such a bottom, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Graphic Rape of a minor, Graphic Violence, I shall add more tags as i go on, Lilith is in love with Abaddon, Nerd Dean, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Top!Abaddon, also Abaddon smokes, also adoptive parents being douchebags, anyway I will put specific warnings for each chapter, bottom!Dean, do not read if you feel this could trigger you, don't worry they eventually like each other, english is not my first language so my grammar is a little weak, explicit heterosexual sex, explicit lesbian sex, explicit sex between minors, first time posting, helpful criticism is much appreciated, i almost made myself sick writing it, i've gone over it but if there is something that really bothers you please let me know, pansexual male character, pansexual!dean, sorry the tags are so disorganized i keep forgeting stuff i need to tag, super akward!, there is a shit ton of angst, they're really fucking akward at first, this also goes for warnings, you will suffer, you wouldn't believe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life has gotta kill<br/>Faith is gonna blind<br/>Hope is gonna fade<br/>The truth is gonna lie<br/>Sometimes there's no reason<br/>To justify the meaning</p><p>But I won't run<br/>I'm not ashamed<br/>It's gonna take more than this for me to break<br/>- Amen by Halestorm<br/>(I hate to do this crap but I can't think of a good summary and this song does a pretty good job at it)</p><p>Yall, I'm sorry to do this crap but I left the Supernatural fandom cuz I couldn't stand what the show was doing anymore and I've lost steam for this fic so its unlikely I'll finish it but thank you if you were actually following this</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Things you should know:  
> Abaddon's last name is Sands like her vessel in the show  
> They're like in the 11th grade  
> They're on a double block schedule. For those who don't know what that is its having only certain periods per day with the classes being like 2 hour long. Its hell
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Nightmares, underage smoking, suffocation, panic attacks

Struggling to breath, gasping, thrashing across the bed, fighting, drowning. Suddenly, the ability to breathe came back to her and she was floating, so up high, her throat agonizing over every breath. She needed to be grounded, feel as if though her world wasn’t shaking at its foundations. She slid off the bed and walked to the closet, feet whispering across the wooden floor. She carefully opened the cigarette pack, making sure not to make much noise, lighted it and sucked in. Sweet, sweet bliss! As she smoked she walked over to the window and opened it to air out the room. The silvery-gray smoke clogged her senses, making it a bit hard to breathe but she enjoyed the acrid smell and the calm that settled over her when she smoked. She inhaled the smoke again, relaxing her mind and letting the sickly feeling that came with the nightmares dissipate. The smoke drifted upwards gracefully, beautifully, creating spirals, and clouds and such strange shapes. For the moment, she was content just to watch these fantastical shapes form and dissolve just as quickly. All she had to do was remind herself to keep breathing, to exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale…


	2. Bad Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebel souls  
> Deserters we've been called  
> Chose a gun  
> And threw away the sun  
> Now these towns, well they all know our name  
> The death punch sound is our claim to fame 
> 
> And that's why they call me  
> Bad Company  
> I can't deny  
> Bad Bad Company till the day I die  
> -Bad Company Cover By Five Finger Death Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Graphic Violence

Today was one of those rare days that Abaddon actually felt like paying attention during class. Usually she would let her mind wander during the lessons the teachers gave in their monotonous voices, she could always look up the topic on the internet anyway. Today however, Mr. Crowley was even more irritable than usual, making it even easier to rile him up. He was currently in the process of huffing and growling at her, looking more like an aggravated peacock than anything else, when the door suddenly opened with a bang. “Mr. Crowley! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be late I-” “No excuses Winchester! You know my rules! It’s halfway through the period why are you so late? Actually I don’t care, get in your seat! You have detention today during lunch.” It’s actually surprising that Crowley doesn’t spontaneously combust under the murderous glare Winchester gives him, however, Winchester doesn’t say anything, just takes his seat like a good little student despite the unfair treatment. Crowley goes back to giving his lesson after that, going on about DNA or some shit without even caring if his students are listening as long as they are quiet. Abaddon has completely lost interest in bothering him and she finds her attention drifting to the Winchester. He’s rather tall, with broad shoulders and fit enough that she can see the muscles shifting under his green sweater vest. Lord, the kid dresses like a total nerd, he’s even wearing glasses and paying attention for fucks sake. Currently, he’s hunched over his notes, furiously scribbling whatever it is Crowley is going on about. He must sense her staring because he looks up and makes eye contact, brow furrowed in confusion. When he continues to stare, Abaddon smiles sharply in annoyance and Winchester quickly averts his eyes and goes back to taking notes. Nothing more happens during class and she thinks it’ll stay that way until Crowley mentions the words “project” and “assigned partner” with ten minutes to go until the end of the period. They all watch in horror as Crowley explains, “I have written all of your names on these slips of paper. I will randomly select a slip of paper and the one that I select next will be the other person’s partner, now –““Can we work alone?” “Do not interrupt me Miss Sands and no you are not allowed to work alone, the plan is for you to learn to work as team, you can blame the fools up in the district for our new standards don’t look at _me_ like that. Also, I’m warning you know, if one of you doesn’t do their work it’ll also affect your partner’s grade. Does anyone else have any more idiotic questions? No? Great.” After that Crowley begins to take names out of the hat and Abaddon impatiently waits for her name to be called. She supposes this could be amusing despite the fact that she won’t have full control, _although_ she might just be paired up with someone who is easy to manipulate. She almost feels bad for the poor soul that’ll be stuck with her. The next name catches her attention,” Winchester, you’re with…” Crowley deliberately rummages through the remaining slips and slowly pulls one out, “Sands.” And there’s where all the amusement ends.

Dean fucking knew this was gonna be a bad day. First he had missed the bus to school because he had woken up late. He had arrived half an hour late to first period and to top it off, Crowley had been in a bad mood and hadn’t even let him explain and had just given him detention on the spot. Then, while he was taking notes, he had felt someone staring at him and had looked up from his notes only to find that Abaddon creep staring at him as if though she could see his soul. He had stared right back because _what the fuck_ who the _hell_ just stares at people like that. Then she had smiled, all slow and predatory and had even gone so far as to lean forward on her elbows. Usually Dean loved being on the receiving end of a look like that, it was hot as fuck but Sands had looked like she had literary wanted to _eat_ him. After that he had quickly looked away and gone back to taking notes even though he could still feel her staring. The rest of the period was pretty boring, right up until Crowley mentioned something about a project and working in teams of two. He then mixed a bunch of papers in a container and began to pull out names randomly. Finally, Crowley took out his name and then rummaged through the remaining names as if though he were some master of suspense. “…Sands.” Sands? Who the hell was Sands? It sounded familiar but… Oh! Abaddouche. _Sonavabitch!_ He chanced a glance at her. Shit, she did not look happy about the arrangement. Right at that moment she was looking at him as if though she wanted to kill him. He smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way, but it probably looked more like a grimace because Sands just glared at him harder. Great this was going to be so much _fun_.

If only it were within Abaddon’s power she would snap her fingers and break Crowley’s neck. If he hadn’t tried to play the suspense card then she wouldn’t be paired up with Winchester of all people. She turns to glare at Winchester and sees that he is staring at Crowley in horror, lips parted as if though he’s about to protest. After a few moments he must notice that she’s glaring at him because he turns to look at her looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. He swallows and one of the corners of his lips twitches upwards in an attempt of a polite smile, though it looks more like a grimace and just makes her glare harder. _Fantastic_ now he’s trying to be friendly, he probably has every intention of giving the whole stupid teamwork idea a try. Crowley clears his throat to get everyone’s attention,” We don’t have any more class time so the next time we meet will be when you get together with a partner and come up with something to present.” A few seconds later the bell rings and everyone heads out, some already talking to their partners as they head to their next class. Winchester does not approach her and for that she is grateful, she’s pretty sure she would end up punching him in the face if he did.

As it turns out she does get a chance to let out her frustrations during lunch. She ends up fighting some dark-haired, blue-eyed girl named Hannah. It’s an evenly matched fight she supposes as she dodges a punch. Abaddon might be taller than Hannah but what Hannah lacks in height she makes up with force.  So far Abaddon has received a punch to the lip and what probably turn into a black eye. She has the upper hand though, she has punched Hannah several times in the stomach and even manages to land a punch to her windpipe that leaves breathless and in pain long enough for Abaddon to grab her by the arms and hurl her to the ground. The crowd around her watches enthusiastically and she finds it hilarious that even though many will label her a monster they just stand and watch as Hannah chokes with every breath, laying helpless on the floor as Abaddon saunters over to her. Suddenly she feels several pairs of arms pulling her away from the fight and she’s snarling and fighting against their grip because she’s not finished _goddamitt_ and she can’t fucking _see_. She manages to throw off whoever is holding her back before grabbing the nearest person’s arm and yanking them forward ready to punch their face in before realizing that it’s Lilith. Despite the fact that Abaddon is holding her arm in a death grip Lilith looks eerily calm and merely raises her eyebrows until Abaddon relinquishes her hold with a grimace. She turns around to see Hannah’s twin brother Castiel rushing through the crowd to hold Hannah back even though he’s giving Abaddon a look that promises a very slow and painful death. She would be intimidated by it if one of the Deans accompanied by two of the school police wasn’t already marching her way through the crowd looking like she wanted to skin everyone there. The Dean, a woman by the name of Naomi that Abaddon was well acquainted with, gestured for the officers to grab both Abaddon and Hannah and gestured with one finger for them to follow her to her office. When they got there the officers let go of them and Naomi flung the door open and snarled at them to get in and Abaddon happily complies settling down in one of the chairs as if though it’s a throne. ”Sit,” Naomi growls at Hannah and poor Hannah looks terrified, she’s such a goodie two shoes, she’s probably never been called into the Dean’s office. As for Abaddon this is practically routine, she’s been called in every other month since she started high school. She smiles faux pleasantly at Naomi, relaxing into her seat with an arrogant grace, “Good afternoon Missus Milton.” Naomi glares at her disapprovingly, “Don’t try to charm yourself out of this Sands you and Miss Collins are in big trouble.”  At these words Hannah slumps in her seat looking as if though she regrets her whole plain life. Naomi leans forward in her chair and rests her chin on the heel of her hand,” Now is one of you going to explain to me why you two were fighting like animals?” At this Abaddon merely shrugs casually,” Cause I wanted to.” Hannah glares at her and then looks back to Naomi and says with a touch of anger,” She was saying things about my brother and I Missus Milton and she just wouldn’t leave it alone.” Naomi raises an eyebrow incredulously, “And you rose to the bait?” It wasn’t a question but a statement and Hannah blushed furiously looking humiliated, all traces of anger gone. As for Abaddon, oh she could barely contain her amusement, really, it had almost been too _easy_ to rile Hannah up by insinuating an incestuous relationship between her and her brother. Not that she disapproved both Castiel and Hannah were _very_ attractive. “I’ll have to report this and both your parents will be notified of your behavior.” At this Hannah makes a small strangled noise and the grip she has on the armrest tighten. “Miss Collins you will have detention starting on Monday, usually you would get detention for such an offense but since this is the first time you’ve done something like this and you are usually a model student I will be lenient-this time.” Hannah visibly relaxes and Naomi’s gaze moves to Abaddon and she looks confused,” As for you Miss Sands…I don’t know why you keep behaving like this despite being punished, you will be suspended for 3 days. Again.” Abaddon mentally shrugs, she ditches often anyway, not being in class isn’t exactly a punishment to her, besides if she’s suspended then that means that she won’t have to talk to Winchester tomorrow. “Miss Collins you may leave now, I would go up to the nurse’s office if I were you, and Miss Sands please remain seated while I call your parents so that they can pick you up.” As she’s leaving, Hannah gives Abaddon a murderous look and Abaddon can’t help winking at her before she turns back to look at Naomi. She waits for the click of the door as it closes before she opens her mouth,” My parents won’t be able to pick me up Missus Milton, I can walk home on my own.” Naomi gives a disappointing sigh, “Very well, I’ll walk you to the gate.” Somewhere in the distance the bell rings marking the end of lunch. Fantastic. By now the news of her fight with Hannah will have spread throughout the whole school and now everyone will know why she’s walking with the Dean. Oh well might as well get it over with, she stands up and slings her backpack over one shoulder, Naomi not far behind. The walk to the main gate is silent and tense and just as Abaddon expected people stop to stare at her and whisper to the person waling next to them. Some even glare at her but it only serves to make her smirk at their _complete_ hypocrisy. By the time that they get to the main gates the hallways have emptied themselves and Naomi breaks the silence,” Why do you have such trouble following rules Abaddon?” as if though she can’t wrap her mind around the idea of someone not following orders. Abaddon shrugs not bothering to answer and mutters a polite ‘see ya later Missus Milton’. The walk back home is peaceful but it’s all an illusion. She knows what’s waiting for her


	3. For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The silence is what kills me  
> I need someone here to help me  
> But you don't know how to listen  
> And let me make my decisions
> 
> I sit here locked inside my head   
> Remembering everything you said  
> The silence gets us nowhere!  
> Gets us nowhere way to fast!  
> -For You Staind (I couldn't find a more fitting song, sorry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Non- Graphic Violence, Non-Graphic Physical Abuse of a Minor, Abaddon being a lil' shit

By the time that Abaddon’s adoptive father had gotten home last night Abaddon had already finished preparing dinner. Her adoptive mother had been indifferent to the news of the fight, just as she was indifferent to most things. Her adoptive father, on the other hand, had been angry, as he tended to be, and she had the bruises on her arms to show it. He claimed that he “disciplined” her because he loved her, that it was what any good parent would do. Abaddon didn’t believe it for a second and she would be dammed before she took a beating without a fight. The following day she had woken up she woke up early to prepare breakfast and took a plate to her adoptive mother’s room even though she knew that she wouldn’t eat it, just as she hadn’t eaten yesterday as was evidenced by the plates of rotting food that littered her room. She takes a plate up to her own room as well and does the chores after her adoptive father leaves, bored out at her mind with nothing to do, at least at school she had someone to banter with. She had picked up a book earlier but you can read and analyze a book only so many times before you get sick of it so she had settled for laying on the couch and letting her mind wander. After a while she got up to check the clock and it read a little over three and a half hour so school had already ended. She contemplates visiting Lilith but decides to give her some space after what happened yesterday. She just wished she had someone to hang out with dammit. Although there _is_ something she could do to entertain herself but she isn’t in the mood to be touching herself so she just lays back down on the couch. A few minutes later, while she contemplates the pros and cons of catching up on the show she had been watching the doorbell rings breaking the dead silence of the house. Her eyes flick curiously to the door but she makes no move to answer it, surely she must’ve imagined it, no one she knows would come knocking. Lilith isn’t the touchy-feely type-whatever that means, Meg is at the after school literature club (heaven knows why, the girl has no sense of poetry) and Ruby and the others are probably trying to get through the large stack of homework they should’ve been working on days ago. The doorbell rings again, wrenching Abaddon out of her thoughts and she walks briskly to the door, pajamas be damned, though she does quickly fix her mussed hair. She opens the door, a snarky comment on her lips and feels the smirk slide off her face once she realizes who it is. Well, they do say be careful what you wish for.

  

When he looked back on it, visiting Sand’s house probably wasn’t a very smart idea on Dean’s part but they needed to start on the project _together_ and Dean would be dammed before he lets Abaddouche leach off all his hard work. He had asked one of Cas’ friends, a girl named Meg, who had given him Abaddon’s address with a smirk. Afterschool he had gone to Sand’s address instead of hanging out at Charlie’s like he usually would. ‘This is probably the worst idea you’ve ever had Winchester,’ whispered a voice in his head as Sand’s house came into view. Dammit he should’ve just given Cas the address and let him have his revenge on Abaddouche, the bitch deserved it after fucking up Hannah. Although, knowing Cas, the worst the guy would do would be something harmless like putting a dirty sock in a cereal box or some other stupid thing. The guy was too damn nice and after the first few hours since the fight he had lost any real thirst for revenge, knowing that Hannah had at least gotten some good punches in. He shakes his head to shut his head up, ‘Man up Winchester.’ He crosses the porch in two quick steps and rings the doorbell shaking slightly. A minute passes and the door hasn’t opened yet and he hopes that Sand’s isn’t home though he does ring the bell once more, just to make sure. Still no one answers, oh well turns out Sands isn’t home. Shame really. He’s already taking a step back from the door when it opens to reveal Sand’s in a pair of comfy looking pajamas and a small, fond smirk on her face. She looks like the exact opposite of the person that beat up Hannah yesterday. That smirk (almost a smile) slides off her face though when she sees its _Dean_ knocking on her door and not whoever she was. “What the hell are you doing here Winchester, “she sneers at him. God she says his name as if though it’s the most underhanded insult, what the hell did he ever do to make her hate him? Or is she just like this with everyone? He realizes that she asked a question and instead of giving her an answer like a normal, functioning human being, he had just been standing there looking like a dumbass. He shifts his weight from one foot (smooth Winchester, if you wanted to look like an awkward penguin) to the other and clears his throat,” We have project due in two weeks in case you didn’t notice.” Dammit he needs to think before he speaks, however all this little comment gets him is an unimpressed look and Sands crosses her arms. Its then that Dean notices the dark bruises that litter her arms but he barely even glances at them, she probably got them from the fight with Hannah. “No.” He looks at her bewildered, “Excuse me?” Sands’ glare intensifies and holy shit looks could kill he would be so dead now. “You heard me,” Sands says clenching her jaw, “I said no get the hell off my porch, I’m not helping you with your stupid little project, fuck off.” Her body turns and she’s already closing the door in Dean’s face and _hell no_ he is not doing both of their work, he manages to stick his foot between the door and the doorframe just before it closes. _Holy shit_ if the look Sands had given him before had promised death before the one she gives him now screams eternal torture. “Like hell I’m gonna do your work for you Sands we’re gonna work on this _together,_ so if you could get that stick out of your ass that would be nice.” Again with the foot in his mouth, at least he didn’t _stutter_. He would totally be patting himself in the back if he were alone for not letting his voice shake. Sands’ lip curls and she actually _snarls_ at him, “No one said you have to do my work-““Actually, a big part of our grade is working together and the whole project is worth twenty percent of our grade.” Sands gives him an unimpressed look,” You have an A, why the _fuck_ are you fussing? You’ll still be passing if you don’t do it.” That’s true but slacking has never sat well with him, it always makes him feel _guilty_ , besides, how the hell was he going to explain to his parents that his grade had lowered to a low B? “I would like to keep my A, thank you very much, so if you could move so we could start on it that would be great.” Sands stares at him for a long time, as if though she’s trying to see what makes him tick, before she relents and moves away from the door without a second glance. “Oh hey wonders never cease,” he drawls sarcastically before following her inside, though she doesn’t respond and he mentally high-fives himself for tickling the dragon and living to tell the tale. The inside of Sands’ house looks nothing like how he imagined. For one, there’s no creepy paintings hung on the walls, no couches made from human skin, not even a single torture device (alright he might be exaggerating a _little_ ). Instead, the living room is a large airy room with a large window that lets plenty of light in, the walls are painted a plain beige color. The only creepy thing in the whole room is the large painting of Jesus on the cross that hangs right over the fire place. The whole place just feels _off_ and Dean just can’t put his finger on it. Whatever it is this is not the environment he had expected Sands to grow up in. Sands sits on one of the couches and gestures at him to sit on the one across from her. There’s a glass table between them, which is good because it’ll hinder Sands if she tries anything. For a few moments they just sit and stare at each other awkwardly before Sands raises her eyebrows at him. Dean glances down, uncomfortable, and clears his throat before taking out the notes he did in class and the rest of his research and Sands is _still_ staring at him and he really doesn’t fucking like it. He makes sure not to make eye contact as he pushes his glasses up his nose. “Um…well during class today we went over what we could make our presentation about and what mediums we could use, are you okay with doing- God could you _stop_ looking at me like that?” At this Sands smirks, “I’m not God.” Yeah you’re probably a bitch from Dante’s ninth circle of hell. Jesus Christ, what a _creep_. He glares at her (because she’s still staring at him and it looks fucking predatory) before continuing, “I was thinking we could something about whether instinct is passed down or if its learned and I already printed out the research for it. Do you have anything else mind?” “No that’s fine,” Sands says with a raised eyebrow. They stare at each other uncomfortably (at least _Dean_ was uncomfortable) before Abaddon frowns at him, “You want to start _now_?” Dean nods, “Yeah, I don’t wanna procrastinate.” “I only have a laptop.” Okay they can work with that-wait, no that would mean sitting next to her or have her breathing down his neck, fuck. “Um, if you want, tomorrow we could meet at the library afterschool and that would give you time to do some research of your own.” Which, yeah one of them would have the other staring over their shoulder but at least it would be in a public place. No way she can get away with murdering him there. Sands nods, “Alright, we’ll meet in the library and I’ll research some shit tonight. How long should the PowerPoint be anyway?” “At least twenty slides, we have a week and a half to work on it.” “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Well that’s an abrupt dismissal. Should he say goodbye or just leave? He stands there looking awkward for a second before Sands arches an eyebrow at him, “You don’t need me to hold your hand as you walk out the door do you.” “Haha. Fuck you Sands.” _Shit_ , Dean needs to keep a fucking filter between his brain and his mouth, he’s as good as dead now. However, instead of shanking him on the spot, Sands throws her head back and lets out a terrifying, evil cackle. When Sands lowers her head to look at him with a twisted little smirk on her lips Dean actually feels a shiver go down his spine. He must look like a deer caught in the headlights. Sands smirk turns into a leer and she winks at him, “Maybe another time Winchester.” Ah, _fuck no_ there’s no way Dean is gonna respond to that. He angrily slings his backpack over one shoulder and briskly walks to the door, Sands laughter ringing in his ears.      


	4. Breaking Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out here, nothings clear  
> Except the moment I decided to move on and I ignited  
> Disappear into the fear  
> You know there ain't no comin' back  
> When you're still carrying the past  
> You can't erase, separate  
> Cigarette in my hand,  
> Hope you all understand  
> -Breaking Inside Shinedown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Graphic ( I felt it was graphic) rape of a child, PTSD, nightmare, panic attacks,

There’s fire in her veins instead of blood and her thoughts are going too fast to be coherent. It feels as if though there is knives in her lungs and her legs are burning with exhaustion but none of that matters, she has to keep running. She knew, even before collapsing to her knees, that there was no escaping this. She opens her mouth to scream but then there is a callused hand on her mouth and the feel of a stale breath at her throat. She manages to twist around enough to grab the knife at the waistband of her jeans and she pulls it out, ready to stab the monster above her right in the heart. But she’s too young, too weak, and the man above her is at least three times her age. He rips the knife out of her hands with ease, nearly breaking her wrist in the process, and throws it aside. Then, there’s a hand squeezing her throat and angry threats being hissed in her ear before a callused hand yanks down her jeans and underwear. She doesn’t even realize she’s sobbing until the man slaps her, growling at her to ‘shut the hell up.’ But she can’t, everything hurts, her head, her chest, her stomach, down below where the nuns told her never to touch and so he keeps hitting her, over and over, until everything goes black.

It is at that moment that Abaddon wakes up with a barely muffled shriek. She sits up trying to fight her nausea but she eventually gives and leans over to throw up in the empty trash can she keeps by the foot of her bed. When she’s done she wipes her mouth and drinks the whole glass of water by her bedside. By now her breathing has steadied a bit but there’s a phantom pain on the side of her face and between her legs-scratch that, her whole fucking body hurts down to the last nerve. There’s a stinging sensation in her nose and her eyes are watering and she’s _not_ going to start crying like some baby goddamitt. She gave that up the night she had woken up in some alley with her jeans around her ankles and semen leaking out of her vagina. She was lucky that no one had seen her like that and that she was too young to get pregnant. She would take the secret of what happened that night to the _grave_. Usually, after having one of her nightmares, she would go to Lilith’s for some physical comfort but the thought of having sex with _anyone_ tonight makes her stomach turn. She doesn’t often have nightmares about what happened that night but whenever she does it leaves her feeling guilty, cold and tired for days, sometimes weeks. She takes a deep breath to clear the mess in her head before she looks at the clock, it reads 3: 14. _Fucking fantastic_ , now she has several hours to wallow in self-pity and hatred. By the time that the first rays of sunshine peak over the horizon all she wants to do is take a whole bottle of pills and sleep for the rest of eternity. Instead, she forces herself to get up and make breakfast for her parents before going back to bed without eating. She stays curled up under the blankets for most of the day before she remembers that she has to meet Winchester at the library after school. She should just not show up but then Winchester would just come to her house again and she doesn’t want anyone-male or female- to come to her house, it would feel way too invasive. Besides, it would be safer to be in a public setting. She quickly glances to the clock, its 1:22 so she should have enough time to do her chores and get to the library. She gets the chores done in record time and doing them actually helps her get her shit together. She looks over at the fridge, she should probably eat something she’s still feeling queasy so she settles for some orange juice before setting out.

Dean checks his watch again, Sands should’ve been here 20 minutes ago. He wonders if she’ll even show up or if she even did the research. There’s a big possibility that she just said she would do it to get rid of him. _Sonavabitch._ Maybe he should just work on the PowerPoint on his own and then present it together the day it is due. He sighs, it’s just as likely that Sands would bail on him the day that it is due and let him present on his own out of spite. He huffs an angry breath through his nose and checks his watch again. He should just show up at Sands’ house again because what the fuck they had an agreement. He’s just about to pack his shit and go home when he spots Sands come in. At first glance she looks like her usual dickish self and then she gets close enough that he can see all the details. Jesus she looks a wreck, there are dark circles under her eyes, her skin has a sickly pale tint and her hair looks greasy and unkempt. She’s not even wearing her usual make-up and band t-shirt, instead she’s wearing a baggy white t-shirt and loose gray pants. He can even _smell_ something off when she gets close enough, it’s the same sorta sickly smell that always hangs around Sammy when he gets sick. He suddenly feels very guilty about his earlier thoughts. Here he was bitching about how long Sands was taking to get here when she probably had trouble mustering enough willpower to just get out of bed. He shoves the guilty feeling to the back of his head and offers a polite smile. ”Hey! I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up,” he winces, his voice sounds overly cheery even to his own ears. At this Sands glares and hands over the stack of papers in her hands wordlessly. Ok, cool. Sammy is also grouchy when he gets sick. It’s always best to give people their space even if they’re the affectionate sort which he doubts Sands is. He promptly sits down and starts on a slide only putting in the important information and occasionally asking Sands about word choice, design and any other information Sands thinks might be important to put in. After about an hour of this he asks Sands to switch places with him since his fingers are getting tired. Sands does so, although reluctantly and with an unreadable expression on his face and he thinks nothing of it. Everything is going fine until looks over her shoulder to make a suggestion. When he does this her whole body tenses up and she stops typing. Right, personal space. But even when he backs off Sands shoulders remained tensed and she doesn’t say anything for the rest of the time they work together. Soon it is time to go home for dinner, they’ve made good use of their time he supposes, and they’re nine slides into the PowerPoint so at this rate they should be done by the end of the week. He hesitantly taps on Sands’ shoulder. “What?” “You want to go home already? It’s an hour before supper and its already getting dark.” Sands’ eyes flicker to the window before flicking back to the screen. “Okay.” While Sands saves the document to the USB, Dean packs up his stuff and thinks about the way to ask Sands something. He doesn’t actually say anything until they’re out of the library and Sands starts walking away. “Hey, uh, do you want a ride home?” At this Sands turns around and stares at him long enough to make him uncomfortable. “Um… ok if you don’t want a ride…I-I’ll just be going then. So, um, when do you-““Ok.” He stares at her for a few seconds confused and she rolls her eyes at him. “I would like a ride home if the offer is still there.” “Oh! Ok we can talk about when we next meet on the way home.” The walk to the car is silent and some of the most awkward moments of Dean’s short life. He can _feel_ Sands’ stare all the way to the Impala and there’s a weird tension between them that is somehow different from their usual hostility. When they finally get to the impala Sands looks the most interested Dean’s seen her all day. “Huh, didn’t think a nerd like you would be into muscle cars,” Sands says as she gives Baby an appreciative look. Dean smiles fondly, “I call her Baby…she’s not mine though, she’s my dad’s, she will be one day though.” Sands merely hums at this and slips into the passenger’s seat, stroking the door handle on the way. After Sands gives him directions most of the ride is silent though the air between them isn’t charged with the same tension as before. It’s actually the most relaxed Sands has ever been in his presence: currently she’s leaning her head and looking at the road tired eyes. Baby has that effect on people. In fact, if Dean didn’t know better he would describe it as _comfortable_. It’s a thought that disturbs him and so he decides to break the serenity between them, “So when and where do you want to meet next time?” Sands hesitates before answering, “The library would be fine. Why would you want to meet somewhere else?” Dean shrugs,” I just think that meeting at the library is an unnecessary hassle, I have a computer at home so it’d be easier if we just went to my house.” He glances to Sands and he notices that she has gone tense again. “Or… we could just meet at your house if you feel more comfortable…””Stop the car,” Sands says through gritted teeth. He stares at her bewildered,” Why? We’re still three block away from you house.” ”I don’t care I can walk.” He looks at her again, “Are you sure? You don’t look so hot man and-““For fucks sake would you stop the fucking car!” “Ok! Jesus! You don’t have to get angry with me!” They were driving through a neighborhood so there’s no need to pullover before he stops the car so Sands can get out. She glares at him again before slamming the door shut, which ok, _rude_. He should be angry at her for treating Baby like that but all that he feels is confusion. _What the hell did he do_.


	5. Forfeit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learn from this,  
> Prehistoric dance and  
> Refrain from talking,  
> Solves our problems.
> 
> Medicated, could do some good,  
> Or find a way to relate,  
> Or just shut up.  
> -Forfeit by Chevelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Panic Attacks, depression, If there is something I forgot to mention please let me know :)  
> Also, I broke up this chapter into paragraphs cause when its just in a big block like that I have trouble reading it on here and I'll go back and do the same to the other chapters. Someday. Maybe. Ugh who am i kidding, I'm a lazy bastard. I'll probably be pushed to do it when I feel guilty enough but from now on I'll break it up into paragraphs.

In general, the time that she had spent working with Winchester wasn’t that bad. She had expected him to be more overbearing but all he had done was ask her for her opinion on the details and information she thought was important. Everything had been going fine- until it was her turn to type and Winchester had leaned over her to make a suggestion. She had tensed up, the feeling of Winchester breathing so close to her reminding her of _that_ night, and hadn’t relaxed for the rest of the time they were at the library, not even after Winchester had backed off as if though sensing her uneasiness. He must have definitely noticed that there was something wrong with her because he kept glancing at her, concerned, when he thought she hadn’t been looking.

 _Whatever_ she had thought, _I’ll just ignore and hope he thinks I’m not being a freak._ They had been working for a while when Winchester had tapped her lightly on the shoulder. After a few seconds she had responded, her throat protesting the action and making her sound even more irritable than she was, _“What?”_   When Winchester spoke his voice had been softer than it usually was, “You want to go home already? It’s an hour before supper and it’s already getting dark.” She had quickly glanced at the window and had been startled that it was so dark already, it had felt as if though no time had passed at all.  She had said ‘ok’ and had saved their work, Winchester had stared at her as she had packed up, and she could feel it. She had been about to walk away once they were out of the library when Winchester had cleared his throat, “Hey…uh… do you want a ride home?” She had turned around to look at him, surprised. She had been curious as to why Winchester had offered her a ride, they were hardly friends, often passive aggressive with each other, was he just being polite? She had noticed that Winchester had become to look uncomfortable with how long she had been staring at him.  He had shifted awkwardly on his feet and looked down, fidgeting with one of the straps on his backpack.

” Um…ok if you don’t want a ride… I-I’ll just be going…um so, when and where-“he had stuttered and Abaddon had decided to help the poor fool. She had decided that Winchester had no suspicious motives and had said ‘ok.’ To which he had responded with a stupefied look on his face. She had resisted the urge to roll her eyes and said, “I would like a ride home…if the offer is still there.” The confusion on his face had cleared and they had begun to walk to his car, the air between them tense though that had probably been because she kept glancing at him. She had felt as if though something had shifted between them making the atmosphere between them less hostile and she had been so confused.

 When they’d gotten to Winchester’s car Abaddon had felt her jaw go slack for a second, she had not been expecting Winchester, dorky, nerdy, quiet Winchester to be driving around town in a 1967 Chevy Impala. She had been impressed to say the least, “Huh. Didn’t think you were into muscle cars.” At the mention of his car Winchester had smiled fondly, “I call her baby…She’s not mine though, she’s my dad’s she will be one day though.” She had responded with a hum, still too busy admiring the car, and had gotten into the passenger’s seat.  

She should have never gotten into that damn car.

 She lets the purr of the engine lull her into a sense of peace. She doesn’t even realize she’s falling asleep until she’s startled back into awareness by Winchester clearing his throat. “So when and where do you want to meet next time,” he asks, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at her. She frowns at him, confused, before answering, “The library would be fine. Why would you want to meet somewhere else?” Winchester shrugs casually,” I just think that meeting at the library is an unnecessary hassle, I have a computer at home so it’d be easier if we just went to my house.” She feels herself shudders involuntarily. She feels all of the sudden as if though there isn’t enough air to breathe, as if though there isn’t enough space within her and Winchester. Winchester seems to notice a change for he starts to nervously tap his finger on the wheel and opens and closes his mouth repeatedly before speaking, voice hushed as if though he’s talking to a skittish animal.

“Or we could um go to your house… if you’d like.” _Hell no_.  She is _not_ having this conversation right now, not now not _ever_ , especially not with _Winchester_.  “Stop the car,” She says the words through her teeth, forcing them out to sound aggressive. Winchester turns to look at her surprise written all over his face, “Why? We’re still three blocks away from your house.” She forces herself to remain calm, “I don’t care I can walk.” At this Winchester takes his eyes of the road to look at her, concern painted all over his face for some reason. His eyes flicker back to the road and he sighs, “Are you sure? You don’t look so hot man and-“

Something inside her just _snaps_ when Winchester says that and before she can stop herself the panic she’s been trying to hold back since the morning escapes from her and she’s screaming before she can register what’s happening, “For fucks sake would you stop the fucking car!” Winchester actually flinches before his lip curls into a sneer and he yells right back, “Ok! Jesus! You don’t have to get angry with me!” They were driving through a neighborhood so Winchester stops in the middle of the street and waits for her to get the fuck out. Her hands shake while she’s undoing the seatbelt but at least she doesn’t breakdown completely.

 As soon as she’s out of the car she slams the door shut, to which Winchester gives her an indignant look, and doesn’t regret it one bit. Instead, she tries to focus on keeping calm and walking even though her knees want to collapse beneath the weight of everything. As soon as Winchester drives around the bend she breaks into a run despite already having difficulty breathing because now, despite all her precaution, Winchester must know that there’s something _wrong_ with her.

The walls she’s constructed over the years that separate her emotions and thoughts are crumbling and she curses her mind for betraying her. She’s just closing the front door as legs give out under her and she has to bite her fist to stop the laughter from escaping her chest. She’s panting and even though she’s trying to fill her lungs with air it doesn’t seem to be enough- it isn’t enough and she’s _drowning._ She curls up into a fetal position and lets the last of her resolve crumble and as soon as she does the laughter steadily rises in pitch and volume until it sounds more like a _scream_.  She’s laughing so hard her chest hurts and the force of her laughter makes it hard to move. Her eyes are beginning to burn and she rubs them angrily, repeating to herself _not going to cry, not going to cry, not going to cry…_

Her breathing eventually evens out and she leans her head against the door relieved. She feels a bit better now that she’s let out all her bottled emotions but not by much. The monster that is her self-hatred begins to spread in her chest because she let her _weakness_ get the best of her. She forces herself to get up even though there’s a voice in her head chanting _stupid, stupid, stupid_ and she feels even more tired than before. With a start she remembers that her adoptive father will be home soon and she quickly makes dinner, eager for the distraction. After that she goes up to her bedroom with the intention of cocooning herself in her covers and sleeping for the next thousand years.

As she settles into her covers she hopes that her adoptive father won’t mind that she isn’t there to eat dinner. But of course, what she wants, what she _needs_ isn’t what she gets. Sometime around a quarter past six there’s a heavy fist banging on her door. “Josie unlock the fucking door!” She glares hatefully at the door waiting for the banging to stop and it does, momentarily, before the doorknob begins to rattle as if though her adoptive father is picking the lock.

“Fucking _hell.”_

She quickly pulls on her jacket and her jeans before grabbing the knife she always keeps in her boots before pulling those on as well. She has a foot out the window when the window violently slams into the wall. Her adoptive father is standing in the door way holding a belt in his hand, he looks even more angry when he sees her climbing out the window.  She brings her hand up to her forehead in a salute before climbing out completely and climbing down the tree next to it.

As soon as her feet hit the ground she’s running and she knows exactly where to go. She’s done this more times that she can count and her feet take her Lilith’s house on instinct. Lilith’s parents are usually never home, their work often takes them overseas and they used to leave her with an old deaf woman but ever since Lilith had turned 18, her parents had trusted her with the house for the long stretches of time when they were gone. This worked perfectly well for their arrangement. However, tonight Abaddon wasn’t looking for sex, she just needs a place to stay the night. Soon she’s knocking on Lilith’s door and Lilith moves aside to let her in once she’s opened it. She leads her into the living room and makes her sit down while she warms up milk for the both of them to drink. Abaddon murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’ when Lilith hands her a glass and lets it warm up her numb hands before taking a sip.

Lilith watches her with an undecipherable look on her face from the other end of the couch. When Abaddon looks up at her Lilith’s gaze flickers downwards and she fiddles with her glass, “So… rough day today?” Abaddon nods and takes another sip, the warmth relaxing her tense muscles, and she sighs letting herself relax into the cushions. “Do you want to sleep here or up in my room?” Usually Abaddon would love to share the bed with Lilith…but tomorrow is Saturday and with nothing rushing them Lilith might want to have morning sex and she can’t bear the thought of such intimacy at the moment.

“No, it’s alright, I can sleep on the couch.” Lilith looks disappointed for a moment before she gives her a concerned look,” Do you need to talk,” she asks, her voice somewhat gentle. Abaddon isn’t one to go about vomiting feelings everywhere and neither is Lilith. Lilith doesn’t even know about _that night_ , however, she just can’t tell her that it’s _nothing_.

She shrugs before responding, “Just my adoptive father being a douchebag.” Lilith looks at her skeptically but doesn’t push her for more information and for that Abaddon can’t thank her enough, though she’ll never hear it. After a moment Lilith gets up and puts the glasses in the sink while Abaddon brushes her teeth with the toothbrush Lilith always keeps for her. She grabs one of Lilith’s extra blankets and as soon as she lays down she’s out for the rest of the night.

She wakes up feeling content and stays at Lilith’s for the rest of the weekend and Monday. Winchester and she had never agreed on when to meet again and she wants to keep it that way for as long as she can.

 During her time at Lilith’s they don’t do anything more intimate than curl up on the couch to watch Twilight (a great source of amusement) and lazily make out afterwards which is fine by Abaddon. On Monday, while Lilith is away at school, Abaddon makes sure to clean up after herself and to make dinner by the time that Lilith comes back at around 5:30 with Ruby, Bela and Meg in tow and the rest of the day is spent watching movies until the rest of them leave at around ten. After that they go to sleep and Abaddon makes sure to wake up early to go grab her stuff before her parents wake up but she makes sure to leave Lilith a note to tell her where she went.

 When she gets to her house she climbs the tree and opens the window from the outside. Once she’s in she changes out of the clothes that Lilith had let her borrow and puts them in the basket before she changes into fresh clothes, grabs her school stuff and climbs back out. She contemplates ditching first period since Winchester is going to be there but decides it’s not the brightest of ideas after she got suspended and then spent three days out of the house without telling anyone where she was going.

 As soon as she walks into Crowley’s class her eyes meet green ones. Winchester looks surprised to see her at first, it’s obvious that he didn’t expect her to show up at all, then he looks pissed as hell before his expression shifts to one of concern all in the space of a second. She makes sure to sneer at him as she goes to her seat. When she turns to look at Winchester his mouth is set in an angry straight line and he’s glaring right at her, most likely because they didn’t get very far on the project. Throughout the lesson she can feel the heat of Winchester’s glare attempting to burn her to crisp and she doesn’t acknowledge it. After Crowley is done boring them all to death he gives them time to talk with their partner for the rest of the period and she turns to look at Winchester who is still glaring at her. _Fucking great_.


End file.
